


Gimme Shelter

by njgirl0976



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Dialogue, Castiel is the worst guardian angel, Drinking, F/M, Jersey Girl, Murder, Psychic Abilities, Rape, S5 Episode References, Supernatural - Freeform, Supernatural Season 5, The Apocalypse, The Winchesters hit the East Coast for once, Wait. No one's having sex?, non-con, referenced parental death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-04-29 11:23:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5125655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/njgirl0976/pseuds/njgirl0976
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jolene McLeod's mother appears in Heaven, screaming for help, the only angel willing to assist her is Castiel. Suddenly tasked with the dubious honor of being a newborn's Guardian Angel, Castiel finds himself linked to this human child whether he likes it or not. Decades pass and now, with the Winchesters in the mix and the Apocalypse playing out in the background, Castiel and Jolene's odd connection is tested by forces neither of them have any control over.</p><p>**THIS STORY IS ON INDEFINITE HIATUS UNTIL I FIGURE OUT WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON WITH IT.**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. PROLOGUE

Castiel had never heard screams like that before.

They echoed through the air, anguish mixed with rage. He got up from where he was sitting to follow the sounds.

A dark haired young woman in a hospital gown with blood-streaked legs was standing in the middle of the room, screaming and grabbing at anyone and anything that got close enough.

“You have to send me back!” she screeched. “You have to! Send me back! She needs me!”

One of the angels tried to catch her waving arms, but she knocked him away. Looking around wildly, she caught sight of Castiel, who was watching her quizzically. Lunging toward him, the young woman grabbed Castiel by the hands.

“Please!” she begged, her voice hoarse from her screams. “Please. She’s just a baby. She’s brand new! I didn’t even get to hold her! Can you send me back? Please?”

Castiel shook his head. “I cannot.”

“Then what good are you?” the woman demanded and burst into tears as her legs gave out underneath her and she slumped to the floor.

Two angels came over and collected her, resigned and slightly weary in their movements and actions. Castiel watched silently as they started to lead her away. The woman raised her tear-smeared face to meet Castiel’s eyes.

“Will you watch over her?” she whispered, not breaking Castiel’s stare. “She’s going to need someone.”

Castiel opened his mouth to say “no” but surprised everyone in his vicinity when he replied, “Of course.”

The woman fainted as one of the angels touched her forehead gently with two fingers.

“What did you just agree to, Castiel?” one of his siblings asked, walking up behind him.

“I believe I just agreed to be a guardian angel,” Castiel replied.

“You? A guardian angel?” his sibling snickered. “That seems unlikely.”

Castiel didn’t reply as he watched the young woman in the hospital gown with the bloody legs being carried away to her new situation.

“Castiel?” his sibling asked again.

“I am going to see the baby,” Castiel said suddenly.

“Do you think that is a very good idea?” his sibling asked, but Castiel was gone.

Castiel found the young woman’s baby in the hospital nursery. She was impossible for Castiel to miss, giving off the same intense aura as her mother. Her father was weeping in the chapel, cursing any deity he could think of. Castiel could feel his misery the most, but the overwhelming sense of love for his new baby was starting to force its way through.

Castiel stood over the baby’s clear plastic crib, gazing down at her. Castiel wrinkled his nose, unsure of what to do next. He was no guardian angel. He was a warrior, a general, the most dedicated soldier in the garrison. What did he know about human babies?

As if on cue, the baby opened her eyes. Instead of the blue eyes typical of a human newborn, her eyes were the darkest of browns, flecked with gold, especially around her pupils. Castiel recoiled, then leaned in to look at her closer. Her soul was golden and lovely and so pure, Castiel had to smile a little. All infants were golden and pure, but it never failed to surprise him when he saw it.

“Hello,” Castiel said. “I am Castiel. Your mother has tasked me to look over you. I have many other responsibilities. Please try not to make this difficult for me.”

With that, Castiel was gone.

In her crib, the baby, Jolene McLeod, grinned.


	2. Chapter 2

1980

The next time Castiel met Jolene McLeod, Jolene McLeod was four.

Her daddy had taken her to the park near their house in New Jersey so Jolene could play with her friends and Daddy could spend a few precious minutes in adult conversation. He was a single dad, young and handsome and a widower to boot, and quite the catch in the eyes of the moms of the usual playground group, who were always unsuccessfully trying to hook him up with one of their single friends.

Jolene McLeod and her friends were doing something very intricate with shovels and pails and sand when Jolene noticed someone was watching her. Tilting her head, Jolene looked up to see a policewoman standing over her and her friends in the sandbox. In a remarkable moment of clarity regarding the protective nature of human parents, Castiel had chosen a female vessel, though he preferred males. Females were curvy and complicated and had biological issues that made Castiel nervous.

“Hello,” Jolene McLeod said happily.

It took Castiel a moment to reply. “Hello.”

“I’m Joly. What’s your name?”

“I am Castiel.”

“Are you a policeman?”

“This vessel is.”

“Daddy calls me Joly,” Jolene told Castiel. “My mommy was Jolene. She died.”

“Yes, I know.” Castiel fidgeted. His vessel was experiencing the monthly function of blood-letting and Castiel couldn’t believe human females did this once a month for 40 years without going mad.

“Is there a problem?” Jolene’s father had rushed over when he saw the policewoman hovering over his daughter. The other mothers had rushed over with him and were watching, gathering their kids to them.

“No,” Castiel replied. “I am just here, checking on the children.”

“Is there a kidnapper in the area?” one mother asked, her voice shrill and worried.

Castiel tilted his head. “There is not.”

“Then why are you here?” Jolene’s father raised his voice a little in panic, scooping Jolene up and turning her away from Castiel.

Castiel looked concerned. “I have already told you. Why are you continuing to ask?”

“C’mon, we’re leaving!” a few of the mothers hurried off.

Jolene’s father turned to leave with her, but Jolene continued to stare at Castiel over his shoulder.

“Are you an angel?” she yelled.

“Joly!” her father scolded.

“Daddy, I can see her wings!” Jolene cried out. “They’re black and shiny. Do you live in Heaven? Do you know my mommy?”

Jolene’s father looked back at Castiel, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“It is of no importance,” Castiel replied.

“But, Daddy, she’s got wings!” Jolene insisted as her father carried her away. “She’s an angel!”

Castiel was left standing in an empty playground. He fidgeted again, uncomfortable in ways he couldn’t even fathom.

Well, that hadn’t gone _exactly_ as he’d planned.

~~~~~~~~

1986

The next time Castiel met Jolene McLeod, Jolene McLeod was 10.

She was half-heartedly chasing a soccer ball down the pitch, her dark hair in a disintegrating ponytail while her father yelled “Move! Move! What’s wrong with you?” and “Come on, Joly! Pick up the pace!” Jolene threw her father a trapped look and tried to run faster, but even Castiel could tell her heart wasn’t in it.

When her coach finally pulled her off the field and put another girl in, Jolene’s father headed over to where she was sitting to question her motives.

“Why didn’t you get the ball?” he asked. He looked disappointed and frustrated. “Don’t you want to score? Don’t you want to have fun?”

“Yes,” Jolene replied, her voice small.

Castiel, wearing a grandfatherly-looking old man as a vessel, moved closer to hear them.

“Then how can you have fun if you don’t play?” her father was asking.

Castiel watched Jolene. He could feel her anger and fear and desperate need for her father’s approval. Castiel tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. Jolene chin quivered and her eyes filled with tears that eventually spilled down her cheeks. By that time, though, her father had turned and walked away, back to his beach chair in the line of beach chairs that all the parents sat in.

Castiel walked closer to Jolene, who broke away from the cluster of her teammates and was now crying by herself.

“Jolene,” Castiel asked, the old man voice rusty from disuse.

Jolene looked up, shocked. Then recognition flooded her face, but didn’t stem her tears.

“Hi, Mr. Cameron,” she replied, wiping her nose on her arm.

Castiel patted the elderly man’s pockets and found a handkerchief, which he handed to Jolene.

“Why are you crying?” Castiel asked.

“I hate soccer,” Jolene confessed, blowing her nose.

“Then why do you play?”

Jolene swiped the handkerchief under her eyes. She shrugged. In fact, she didn’t look back up at Castiel for a few minutes but watched the game instead, glad she was seemingly forgotten on the sidelines and not called back into play. Castiel didn’t move, but watched her instead.

Jolene looked back at Castiel again, surprised he was still standing there. Then, suddenly, her eyes narrowed.

“Mr. Cameron?” she asked.

It took a minute for Castiel to reply. “Yes?”

Jolene’s dark eyes, still flecked with gold, her pupils rimmed with amber, roved over Castiel’s vessel. She gasped a little, looked terrified, and began to back away.

“You aren’t Mr. Cameron, are you?” Jolene asked, scuttling backwards.

“No,” Castiel replied. He hadn’t moved an inch.

“Who are you?” Jolene asked.

“I am Castiel,”he said.

Jolene stopped moving. She looked speculative. Well, as speculative as a tear-stained 10 year old girl in a soccer uniform can look.

“I know you,” she said softly. Castiel said nothing. “I do. You were at the park when I was little.”

Castiel nodded. “I was.”

“Who are you?” Jolene asked, coming closer to Castiel.

“I am an angel,” Castiel told her.

Jolene squinted up at Castiel, who was standing with his back to the sun.

“Angels are real?” Jolene asked.

“Of course,” Castiel answered.

“And you’re an angel?”

“Of course.”

“I--I don’t believe you.” Jolene crossed her arms across her chest.

A cheer went up behind them. Jolene’s soccer team had won, with no help from her, of course. Jolene and Castiel stared each other down: the ageless angel and the 10 year old girl.

“Jolene! Come here!” a little voice called over to her.

Jolene glared at Castiel, suddenly angry.

“I don’t believe you,” she told him and ran away to her friends and her father.

Castiel sighed and rolled his eyes at the sky.

 _Your daughter is not making this very easy,_ Castiel thought.

~~~~~~~~

1992

The next time Castiel met Jolene McLeod, Jolene McLeod was 16.

Jolene and her friend Dev were walking to the convenience store down the street from their school. It was their daily day ritual: miss their buses home, walk to the store, buy some snacks, and wait for the late buses. The extra hour at school kept Dev out of the smotheringly loud environment of his home with his overbearing mother and kept Jolene out of the smotheringly silent environment of her home with her absent father.

Castiel stood behind the counter of the convenience store. The clerk had begged Castiel to take him as a vessel. Castiel had his reservations--the clerk seemed a little _too_ eager as he prayed for an angel’s intervention of his life--but, in the end, Castiel took him as a vessel if for no other reason than to see Jolene again.

Jolene and her friend entered the store laughing, but Jolene’s laughter was a little too high-pitched, a little too manic to be real. Castiel watched as Jolene moved through the aisles, picking up this and that before coming up to the counter with her purchases.

“Hello,” Castiel said, trying out the greeting.

Jolene and her friend exchanged a look before Jolene said “Hi?” back in a confused voice. Castiel waited for them to say something else.

“And a pack of Marlboro Lights,” Jolene added.

“You should not smoke,” Castiel told her.

Jolene snorted. “Okay. Just ring it up.”

Castiel squinted at her. “Why are you so sad?”

“What?” Jolene asked, starting a little. “What did you say?”

“You are very sad, Jolene,” Castiel told her.

“How do you know my name?” Jolene asked.

“Fucking stalker,” Dev told her, grabbing Jolene’s arm. “Let’s go, Joly.”

“Wait a fucking sec.” Jolene leaned close, over the counter. Castiel could smell her flowery perfume, a delicate scent, a far cry from the flannel, black boots, blue-streaked hair, and heavy black eyeliner that made up her outward armor. “Are you--are … you--”

“Castiel.”

Jolene propelled herself backwards. “I _knew_ it! I fucking knew it! I don’t know how but I fucking _knew_ it! Jesus Christ!”

“No. Castiel.”

“Joly?” Dev asked, suddenly concerned.

“You’re in there, aren’t you?” Jolene demanded, leaning in close to Castiel, peering at him this way and that. “Wearing this guy like a cheap suit?”

“He is my temporary vessel, yes,” Castiel nodded.

Jolene made a disgusted face as Dev hovered near the door, completely freaked out.

“Man, that’s so gross,” Jolene commented. “How can you just be in there, with him _in_ there too? How is there enough ... _room_?”

Castiel rolled his eyes, a thoroughly human gesture made a thoroughly un-human being. It made Jolene crack a grin.

“See ya ‘round, Castiel,” she said, grabbing her unpaid for purchases off the counter and heading out the door.

Later that night, Jolene sequestered herself in her room while her father watched the news and went over work papers in the living room. They’d had a mostly silent dinner, punctuated by half-hearted questions and half-hearted answers. The tween and teen years had not been kind to the pair, who used to be close, but drifted apart when Jolene realized that her father couldn’t know all the answers to growing up as a girl that she’d hoped.

Sitting on her bed, Jolene opened a shoebox full of pictures. She took out the ones on top of her and her father smiling and laughing to the red-tinted and dog-eared photo on the bottom. Jolene pulled it out, hands shaking a little like they always did when she looked at it.

“Hey, Mom,” Jolene whispered at the smiling face of her mother looked up at her.

“Jolene.”

Jolene jumped, scattering her photos, muffling a strangled scream. Castiel was standing in the middle of her bedroom. Jolene scrambled backwards against her pillows, eyes wide, heart pounding wildly.

“What the fuck?” she exclaimed in a screechy voice. “Jesus Christ!”

“No. Castiel.”

Jolene clapped a hand over her mouth to settle her breathing and she stared, wild-eyed, at the convenience store clerk standing in the middle of her bedroom.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed at Castiel. “If my father finds you--”

“Why are you so sad?” Castiel asked.

“I’m not sad,” Jolene snapped.

Castiel cocked his head to the side. “I can feel your sadness from here.”

Jolene opened her mouth to reply, but all that came out was a little sob.

“Your mother asked me to watch over you, Jolene,” Castiel told her.

Jolene jerked her head up, shock etched all over her young face. “What did you say?”

“When your mother died, she tasked me with watching over you, Jolene,” Castiel told her. “That is why I am here.”

“Go away, Castiel,” Jolene murmured, tears spilling over her bottom lashes. “I don’t want you here.”

If Castiel could look confused, he would.

Jolene glared at Castiel. “Get out! Get out! Get out!”

Castiel inclined his head and flapped away, leaving Jolene to her grief.

~~~~~~~~

2008

The next time Castiel saw Jolene McLeod, Jolene McLeod was 32.

She was managing a gritty dump of a Jersey Shore bar, serving beer and shots and over-priced rum drinks to tourists. It wasn’t the best job in the world and, frankly, she was too old for it, but it paid the bills and it kept her in free booze, so Jolene didn’t complain about it much.

“Hey, Joly.” Her best friend, Todd, poked her in the back. “That suit’s been starin’ at ya. Looks like you got a fan.”

“More like my tits have got a fan,” Jolene shot back, smiling. She finished making the drinks in front of her, accepting the pro-offered money and tip with a wink. Turning to face Todd, she looked around the crowded bar. “Where?”

Todd pointed, not bothering to hide it. “He’s over there.”

Jolene peeked around Todd to see her “fan,” as Todd so playfully called him. The man standing at the end of the bar stuck out like a sore thumb: tan trenchcoat, dark suit, and a blue tie that Jolene was pretty sure was tied backwards. He had dark spiky hair and the bluest eyes Jolene had ever seen. His full, plush lips looked a little dry, but still incredibly kissable. A faint, dark scruff completed the look. And Todd was right: he was _definitely_ staring.

“You want me … ?” Todd pointed over to him again, waving his finger back and forth between Jolene and the man.

“Nah,” Jolene replied. She hadn’t broken eye contact with the stranger, who seemed content to stare her down until she was a puddle on the floor. “I got this. Thanks.”

“I’m stayin’ close,” Todd told her.

“You’re adorable,” Jolene informed her best friend and then sashayed over to the man in the suit. “What’ll it be, sweetie?” she asked him when she reached him, slapping a napkin down in front of him.

“I do not require an alcoholic beverage,” the man told her. He had a rough, raspy voice that sent a shiver--not a _bad_ shiver, either--down Jolene’s spine.

“DD, huh?” Jolene clicked her tongue. “Better man than me.”

“You are not a man,” the stranger, who was getting stranger by the minute, said.

“I--I know,” Jolene said. “It’s an express--did you want a Coke or a water or something then?”

“I require no sustenance.” The man’s blue eyes didn’t leave Jolene’s dark ones, nor did he blink.

Jolene shivered again. This time, though, the shiver was a _little_ bad. Suddenly desperate to get away, Jolene turned on her best “You’re a douche but I’m gonna smile because I want your money” grin and patted the bar.

“Well, if you change your mind,” she said, turning to walk away, “just flag me down.”

“Jolene,” the man said.

Jolene froze. The cacophony of the bar disappeared as she cringed. Oh, god. It couldn’t be. She turned back to the odd but gorgeous man in the trench coat.

“Cas--Castiel?” she whispered, her voice shaking.

“Yes.” Castiel inclined his head a little.

“How? What? Who--who are you wearing now?” Jolene gasped out. She was clutching the edge of the bar, turning her knuckles white and breaking off her fingernails into the wood.

“His name is Jimmy Novak,” Castiel told her. “He is a very devout man. He prayed for this.”

“I’m sure he did,” Jolene replied weakly. “Gotta tell ya: I like this one a lot better than the store clerk you wore last time.”

“I do not wear my vessel, Jolene,” Castiel said. “But that is not why I am here.”

“Then why are you here?” Jolene demanded. “I haven’t seen you in _16 years_. You’re a pretty shitty guardian angel.”

“I know your life has been … difficult,” Castiel said.

“Difficult?” Jolene spat out. “ _Difficult_? Are you fucking _kidding_ me, Castiel? My father ignored me. I almost failed out of high school. I failed out of college. I work in a dead end bar. I’m 32 years old and I’ve got nothing to show for myself. And where were you? You told me that my mom asked you to watch over me and you just fucking flat-leave me for 16 years?”

“I had other duties to attend to,” Castiel told her.

Jolene scoffed. “Yeah? Like what?”

“I was sent on a mission from God.”

“So, you’re a Blues Brother now?” Jolene asked sarcastically.

“I don’t understand that reference,” Castiel told her. “I had to retrieve the Righteous Man from Hell.”

Jolene looked confused. “What?”

“It is not of import.” Castiel held up one hand, effectively silencing Jolene and her questions. “You must protect yourself, Jolene. There are dark times ahead.”

Jolene shook her head. “I don’t want to know, Castiel. I don’t care anymore.”

“The 66 seals are being broken one by one,” Castiel went on relentlessly. Jolene shook her head, her face crumpling as she began to cry. “Once the last seal is broken, Lucifer will be free and the Apocalypse will begin.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Jolene burst out. Her shrill voice brought Todd over at a run.

“What the fuck, man?” Todd demanded, putting his arms around Jolene, who was sobbing. “Rudy! Get this asshole outta here!”

A muscle-bound bouncer started over, but Castiel seemed unperturbed.

“Jolene,” he said again. Jolene looked up at him from Todd’s shoulder. “Jolene, I need you to prepare yourself for the worst.”

“Why do you even care?” Jolene demanded. “16 years, Castiel. You left me alone for 16 years.”

Castiel inclined his head. “I know. And I should not have. I will not do that again.”

And, with that Castiel was gone, leaving a bewildered bar in his wake, wondering if they were all drunk enough to hallucinate a man completely disappearing from their midst.


	3. Chapter 3

Less than a year later, Jolene was standing in her kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. The radio on the counter was reporting all sorts of weird shit: floods and earthquakes and weather patterns out of science fiction.

“And, here at home, we can expect a day of rain, coupled with thunder, lightning, and 30 to 40 mile per hour winds. Stay safe out there. It’s gonna be a rough one.”

“No kidding, buddy,” Jolene muttered, leaning closer to the window over the sink, rain lashing the glass.

“Is it a Nor-easter?” Todd asked as he walked in the room.

Jolene shook her head as her best friend and roommate served himself a cup of joe.

“Nope,” she replied. “Just the usual, weird weather that’s been happening.”

“You goin’ to work today?” Todd asked.

Jolene shrugged. “Might as well. Not like we’re gonna have a lot of customers, but we gotta be open.”

“Joly, about last night--” Todd began.

“Todd, I don’t wanna talk about it,” Jolene cut him off.

“But, Joly--” Todd began again.

“Shut up, man,” Jolene ordered.

Todd had woken Jolene up from a nightmare. Jolene had been screaming in her sleep when Todd burst into her room.

“What was this one about?” Todd asked gently.

Jolene closed her eyes. Night terrors were becoming her thing.

The first one she had featured two tall male figures, their faces obscured by shadows, in some kind of church. Laying on the floor at their feet were two dead girls, one a blonde and one a brunette. The blonde’s blood had formed some kind of circle on the church floor and a beam of light exploded from the circle. The two faceless men clutched at each other in fear and had a spoken exchange that Jolene barely made out on the fringes of her hearing “Let’s go.” and “He’s coming.”

The second nightmare had the same two faceless men in a storage locker with a smarmy-looking bald man and a handful of suited men. An argument ensued, the two faceless male figures seemed injured, but then Castiel appeared, attacking the men in suits and saving the two injured men.

Last night’s night terror, the third one, was set in a nearly-deserted town where the remaining townspeople were slaughtering each other indiscriminately. A handsome man with a gold ring was running the show, making the townspeople crazy. He was just about to climb into a red car when the two faceless male figures from her first and second dreams appeared, stopped him, and sliced off his ring finger.

“I … I don’t want to talk about it,” Jolene finally whispered.

“This one is your third one,” Todd pushed on. “Was Castiel in this one too?”

Jolene looked up at Todd sharply. His sardonic tone was unmistakable.

“I didn’t tell you about Castiel so you could make fun of me,” she snapped. “I told you that in the strictest of confidence. Not so you can rag on me every chance you got.” Jolene slammed her empty mug into the sink, shattering it and cutting her hand. “And, to answer your question, no. Castiel wasn’t in my nightmare last night. But thanks for making me think about it again.”

“Joly, what--” Todd began.

“Fuck off,” Jolene snapped back, leaving the kitchen for the bathroom to shower and clean up her hand.

Dressing for the unseasonably chilly July weather in jeans and a ¾ length ringer shirt with the bar’s name emblazoned across her chest, Jolene wrapped her injured hand with gauze. She hadn’t seen Castiel in the flesh since that last time at the bar 10 months prior, but he kept popping up in her nightmares. Him and those two faceless men. Jolene pressed her uninjured hand to her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. She popped four aspirin before heading to her car to drive to work.

Technically the bar didn’t open until 4m, but there was plenty to do: checking in deliveries, doing paperwork, making sure the night crew actually stocked stuff before they left. Jolene didn’t mind being in the bar alone. She could turn on the rock station instead of listening to horrible dance music and just zone out on the mundane details that went along with her dead end job.

“Hey,” a male voice said. “Bud guy.”

Jolene looked up from stacking plastic cups to see a hot Indian guy with caramel colored skin and light hazel eyes smiling at her. He was pushing a hand truck loaded with case of Budweiser, rain dripping off his baseball hat all over her shipping list.

“Hey,” Jolene found her tongue. “Yeah, sure. Over there.”

She watched at the hot delivery guy pushed the hand truck over to the second bar.

_Nice ass,_ she thought.

As if he heard her, the guy turned around and smiled at her. Jolene blushed a little, something she never did, and tried to cover her embarrassment with conversation.

“You’re new,” she said, coming across the empty dance floor to him.

“Yeah.” The guy stuck his hand out to be shaken. “Vihaan Sharma.”

“Jolene McLeod,” she replied as she shook his hand.

“Nice Italian name,” Vihaan teased.

“You should talk,” Jolene shot back, grinning. “You can’t have been doing this job long.”

Vihaan looked at Jolene suspiciously. “Why would you say that?”

“Your hands are way too soft.” Jolene’s grin grew mischievous. “Delivery guys are notoriously calloused.”

Vihaan shrugged, his hazel eyes gleaming. “I moisturize.”

Jolene felt a little weak. “I bet.”

“Jolene.”

Jolene cringed. Oh, no way. Not now. _Not now._

“Jolene.”

“I think he’s trying to get your attention.” Vihaan pointed over Jolene’s shoulder.

Jolene nodded, refusing to turn around.  Vihaan glanced behind her. Pulling his empty hand truck behind him, he headed for the exit.

“See ya around,” he tossed back at her like an afterthought.

“Jolene.” Castiel’s voice sounded almost urgent.

“Yeah!” Jolene snapped, turning to face Castiel. “ Yeah. I heard you the first two times.”

He was still in his trench coat and suit with the backwards tie. Sighing, Jolene headed over to him.

“Hasn’t anyone told you this was wrong yet?” she asked, flipping his tie around.

She had never actually been that close to Castiel before. His blue eyes were even more blue than she thought. His dark hair was spiky and wild and, despite the rainstorm raging outside, he was dry as a bone.

“10 months this time, Castiel,” Jolene commented, not meeting his intense gaze. “It’s certainly an improvement.”

“Jolene, the end times have begun,” Castiel said with no preamble.

“The … the what?” Jolene asked faintly, but she knew immediately what he meant.

“The final seal was broken. Lucifer has risen. The Apocalypse has started.”

Jolene closed her eyes. Castiel watched her.

“But you know,” he said.

Jolene nodded, eyes still closed.

“How do you know?” Castiel asked.

“I don’t know,” Jolene admitted. “But I just do. I keep having these … dreams.”

“What kind of dreams?” Castiel demanded, clutching her arm suddenly.

The electricity that crackled outside with the lightning was almost identical to how Jolene reacted to Castiel’s grip. It wasn’t sexual, not really, but it sent a shock through her body.

“Nightmares,”Jolene corrected herself, clearing her throat. “I keep seeing you and these two guys. I can’t see their faces, but I know that they’re male and related. Brothers, lovers, something close.” Jolene shook her head a little. “You weren’t in last night’s nightmare, though. It was just them. And a good looking guy with a red car. They cut off his finger and stole his ring.”

Castiel let Jolene go and took a step back. Jolene felt a flash of panic rip through her.

“What?” she asked, her voice rising a little. “What did I say? What did I see?”

“What was the name of the town?” Castiel demanded.

“How would I know that? It was a dream!”

“What was the name of the town, Jolene?” Castiel demanded again, grabbing both of her arms.

A crack of lightning and a roll of thunder punctuated Castiel’s demand like it had been planned by God. With the scent of spiced honey, rose petals, and ozone in her nose, Jolene’s senses exploded and the words “River Pass, Colorado!” ripped from her throat.

Castiel let go of Jolene’s arms, eyes narrowing.

“You knew this?” he asked, his rough voice deathly quiet.

“But I don’t know how,” Jolene whimpered as she nodded ‘yes.’

“You are not a prophet,” Castiel said, but Jolene was sure he was talking mostly to himself. “We know the prophets. Your name is not on the list.”

“My name?” Jolene asked. “What list? There’s actually a list of Heavenly prophets, like VIPs getting into some velvet roped club?”

“Heaven does not have a club,” Castiel told her. “And our ropes are not velvet.”

In spite of the situation, Jolene let out a small laugh. “It’s an express--never mind.”

“A figure of speech,” Castiel finished for her. “Yes. My new friends are trying to teach me them.”

“You have friends? What kind of friends?” Jolene couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“Sam and Dean Winchester,” Castiel replied.

A flash of light blasted across Jolene’s mind. The faceless men from her dreams. They had names. They were real people. Sam and Dean Winchester. Jolene pressed the heels of her hands to her eye, desperate for the light to go away.

“Jolene?” Castiel asked. “What has happened to you? You are injured.”

“Oh.” Jolene blinked as her eyesight went back to normal. “I broke my coffee mug this morning.”

Without saying a word, Castiel pressed two fingers to Jolene’s forehead. A rush of warmth coursed through her, banishing her headache and the ache in her cut hand.

“There,” Castiel said, sounding a little pleased with himself. “You are well again.”

“Holy shit,” Jolene breathed as the stabbing pain behind her eyes was finally gone. “You need to teach me that the next time I have a hangover.”

“You sound like Dean,” Castiel said disapprovingly. “Healing is not for hangovers.”

“Obviously, you’ve never had a killer hangover before,” Jolene snickered.

Castiel opened his mouth to retort, but changed his mind. Jolene watched him curiously as Castiel seemed to listen to something that only he could hear.

“I must go,” he said suddenly, startling her. “Protect yourself, Jolene. I will be back again soon.”

“Cas--” Jolene began but he was gone before she could finish, leaving her alone in the empty bar. “Great,” Jolene muttered. “So, am I a prophet or what?”

Grumbling, Jolene headed back to her seat at the bar to finish her paperwork. The thunder outside made a nice backdrop for how disgruntled she felt over Castiel and his disappearing act.

“Hey,” a voice broke through Jolene’s grouchy mood.

Looking up, Jolene saw it was the beer delivery guy again. He was still dripping wet and, yup, still hot.

“Hey.” This time, Jolene didn’t bother to get up since he came across the room in a few long strides to stand next to her chair. “Forget something?”

“Yeah,” Vihaan answered. “Your number.”

Jolene arched an eyebrow in appreciation. “Smooth.”

“I try,” Vihaan said. “So, can I have it? Or will your boyfriend be pissed?”

“Boyfriend?” Jolene asked.

“Guy with the tie? In here earlier?” Vihaan said.

“Oh, that’s not my boyfriend,” Jolene laughed as she scrawled her mobile number on a napkin. “That was--”

“Yeah?” Vihaan cut her off, sounding really curious.

Jolene paused as she handed him the napkin. Something told her not to say Castiel’s name, so she smiled dazzingly at Vihaan and finished, “Just my boss.”

“Ah.” Vihaan pocketed Jolene’s number. “Your boss. Good to know.”

Jolene nodded, her lie that almost wasn’t a lie faltering on her tongue. “Yup. Just … just my boss.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season 5 (and beyond!) canon dialogue a-plenty.

_“Well. Last night on earth,” Dean said. “What are your plans?”_

_“I just thought I'd sit here quietly,” Castiel replied._

_“Come on. Anything? Booze, women?” Dean asked._

_Castiel looked uncomfortable and didn’t meet Dean’s gaze._

_“You have been with women before,” Dean said. “Right? Or an angel, at least?”_

_Castiel rubbed the back of his neck._

_“You mean to tell me you've never been up there doing a little cloud-seeding?” Dean asked incredulously_

_“I've never had occasion, okay?” Castiel replied, defensively._

_“All right.” Dean grabbed his jacket. “Let me tell you something. There are two things I know for certain. One, Bert and Ernie are gay. Two, you are not gonna die a virgin. Not on my watch. Let's go.”_

~~~~~~~~

“Jolene?”

Jolene jerked herself awake. Leaning up on her elbow, she flicked on her bedside lamp to find Castiel standing in the middle of her bedroom. He looked a little wild-eyed and worse for wear, something she’d never seen before.

“Castiel? You okay?” Jolene sat up, but didn’t get out of bed. Her half-dressed state of ratty men’s tank top and granny panties made her blush. “Did something happen?”

“Dean took me to a den of iniquity,” Castiel confessed. “It was awful.”

“A--a what?” Jolene’s barely awake brain couldn’t wrap itself around Castiel’s words. “Wait. Your friend took you to a _whorehouse_?”

“Yes.” Castiel looked at his shoes then back up at Jolene, who was floored.

“That’s a hell of a friend,” Jolene commented. A little flame of something ( _not jealousy, no way, not that_ ) flared up in Jolene’s belly. “What happened?”

Castiel cleared his throat. “I told the prostitute that her father left because he did not like his job at the post office and--”

Jolene’s laughter cut Castiel off. “You did not! You _did_! Oh, my fucking crap.”

“Dean also laughed,” Castiel sounded hurt. “Why are you both laughing at me?”

“Oh, Castiel.” Jolene wiped her cheeks. “You can’t tell a hooker shit like that. Daddy issues are a commodity in the brothel business.”

“Dean said the same thing,” Castiel commented.

Jolene snorted into her hand. “Oh, my crap.”

“Then why are you not working in a brothel?” Castiel asked.

Jolene’s laughter cut off as Castiel’s words. A million different feelings skidded across her face, ending in self-righteous disbelief.

“Why would you say that?” she asked.

“Is it not true?” Castiel replied. "You also have 'Daddy issues.'"

Jolene threw back the covers on her bed and stalked across the room. “Well, of course it’s _true_. But you still shouldn’t _say_ it.”

“Where are you going?” Castiel seemed concerned.

Jolene threw open her bedroom door, oblivious to her considerable lack of clothing. “Bathroom!” she tossed over her shoulder angrily.

When Jolene came back from the bathroom, Castiel was looking at the photos stuck to her mirror. Jolene stood in the doorway of her tiny room and watched him. Castiel seemed more comfortable in this body than he had the other few times she’d seen him. And there was no denying that this body-- _vessel_ \--was the hottest he’d ever picked before.

 _Shit, Joly. Don’t start thinking that crap,_ Jolene told herself as she moved into the room. The last thing she needed was a big, failed seduction scene.

“So, any big plans for this week?” she finally said as she closed the door behind her.

Castiel didn’t start when he heard her voice nor did he look up from what he was doing on her dresser.

“Dean and I are going to try and stop the Apocalypse,” he answered.

“Wow.” The word ‘Apocalypse’ made Jolene’s skin crawl. Is _that_ what was happening out there? Was it real? Was the whole world going to fall to shit? But Jolene put on a brave face, slammed her hands on her hips, and let out a short, mirthless chuckle. “And here I am, thinking that doing my laundry was a big deal.”

Castiel looked up at Jolene in the mirror. “You remind me very much of Dean.”

Jolene made a dubious face. “Is that the whorehouse guy?”

Castiel nodded. “Yes, and my friend. And also a hunter.”

“So you and the deerstalker are going to stop the Apocalypse?” Jolene sat back down on her bed, pulling the covers up over her legs. She’d never been half-naked in a room with a guy less interested in her before. It was kinda nice, really, but still a little depressing.

“Deerstalker?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah. Your friend?” Jolene reminded him. “You said he was a hunter.”

“Yes, he hunts the supernatural.”

“He hunts the … hunts the _what_ now?” Jolene stammered.

“The supernatural beings in the world intent on cruelty and malice,” Castiel went on, regardless of Jolene’s face. “But right now, his fight is my fight against Lucifer and his minions.”

“I cannot believe I’m having this conversation,” Jolene commented, running a hand through her hair. “So, demons? They’re real?”

“Yes.”

“What else is real? Werewolves? Vampires? Ghosts?” Jolene grilled Castiel, who nodded along. “Obviously angels.” Jolene waved her in Castiel’s direction.

“Obviously.” Castiel turned slightly and Jolene caught a flash, a black flash, a black flash so black it shimmered iridescent blue. Wings. Castiel’s wings. They were there and then then were gone. Jolene sat back with a thump against her pillows. “Are you quite well, Jolene?”

“I think I just saw your wings,” Jolene replied faintly.

“Impossible,” Castiel argued, looking haughty.

“They’re black. So black that they’re blueish and glimmery.”

Castiel looked and felt uncomfortable, a new sensation for both of them to witness.

“Impossible,” he said with a lot less certainty.

Jolene yawned, suddenly exhausted. “I need to sleep,” she murmured. “I just don’t want to have another nightmare.”

Castiel stepped close to Jolene’s bed, so close Jolene could smell that odd but not unpleasant scent he gave off of spiced honey, rose petals, and a crackle of ozone.

“Lay down,” Castiel commanded and Jolene obeyed. “Now. Sleep.”

Castiel laid two fingers on Jolene’s forehead and she slipped into a deep sleep immediately. Once Castiel was satisfied she was asleep enough to block out any night terrors, Castiel headed back to Maine and back to Dean.

A bar. The handsome one with the incredible body ( _Sam_ ) confronting two bloodied men while a blonde woman watched, terrified. Sam confesses, “I did it. I started the apocalypse.” One man charges Sam, who tosses him aside. The second man joins in, he and the first man restrain Sam’s body, pouring thick, red blood from a vial into his mouth, then holding his mouth closed so he'll swallow. Sam gets up and spits the blood in their faces. Another fight ensues with Sam as the obvious winner.

Screaming, Jolene awakened to find herself on the floor in a tangle of sheets and blankets, head pounding, nose bleeding.

“Castiel,” she moaned. “Where are you?”

“I am here, Jolene,” Castiel’s hoarse voice replied softly.

“Help me,” Jolene begged, reaching out to him. “I’m so fucking scared.”

Castiel pulled Jolene out of the twisted bed clothes to her feet. Jolene threw her arms around Castiel, not caring that the angel didn’t respond by putting his arms around her.

“It didn’t work--whatever you did to make me sleep. I still dreamed about them,” Jolene whispered into his coat. “Where were you?”

“Maine. With Dean,” Castiel replied. “We confronted my brother Raphael. He told me our father--my father--God--was dead.”

“God’s dead?” Jolene couldn’t fathom the idea. God was such a foreign concept to her, but here she was, holding onto an angel in her bedroom, an angel in a trenchcoat, and he was telling her that his father-- _God,_ for God’s sake--was dead. It was all too much. “What happened?”

“I do not wish to speak of it,” Castiel told her, trying to pull away.

Jolene wouldn’t let go. “What do you believe?”

Castiel gave her an odd look. “I believe he is out there.”

“Good.” Jolene looked up into Castiel’s blue eyes. “Then go find him.”

Castiel disengaged Jolene’s grip on him. Stepping back, he squinted at her coldly.

“What are you?” he finally asked.

“I don’t get it,” Jolene replied, confused. “I’m Jolene.”

“No, you are something more than that,” Castiel told her. “You just repeated exactly what Dean said to me, verbatim. How would you know our conversation?”

“I didn’t,” Jolene argued. “I’m just telling you exactly what any sane person would say.”

With lightning fast speed, Castiel grabbed Jolene on either side of her head. Jolene tried to scream, her mouth opened grotesquely, but no sound came out. Castiel gripped Jolene’s head, squeezing it between his palms. The pain wasn’t nearly as horrible as the shots of light that flashed in front of Jolene’s eyes and through her brain.

 _“What are you?”_ Castiel’s voice, his real voice, his angel voice, roared in her ears, but the sound was coming from inside her head.

Tears streamed down Jolene’s face as her body convulsed in Castiel’s hands. Her mouth opened and closed continuously, trying to answer, trying to get him away from her, trying for release. The bedside table’s lightbulb exploded as Castiel finally got his answer.

Castiel let go of Jolene, letting her collapse onto the pile of bed clothes on the floor in a heap. Jolene laid there, sobbing, until she was finally able to speak.

“What was that?” she wept. “Angelic lie detector?”

“You are a Seer,” Castiel said. He sounded exhausted.

“Like Sybill Trelawney in _Harry Potter_?” Jolene asked, her breath coming in hiccups.

“I don’t--”

“Yeah, I know,” Jolene snapped. “You don’t understand that reference. Jesus, read a fucking book, Castiel.”

Jolene found herself lifted off the floor by a cold grip on either arm. With her toes dangling above the carpet, she looked down to see Castiel glaring at her with a blinding fury, something she’d never seen before.

“Show me some respect, girl,” he growled. “I am still an Angel of the Lord. I could smite you out of existence with one finger.”

Jolene sagged in his hands. “Then do it,” she whispered. “I don’t want to live like this any more.”

Castiel lowered Jolene to the floor. His being was in turmoil. The last time he felt that turmoil was when he and Dean had fought in Heaven’s Green Room before the last seal was broken and Lucifer rose. It was almost the same feeling. Castiel kept holding onto Jolene’s arms, unsure of what to do. Jolene looked up, meeting Castiel’s eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, like she didn’t just have a mini-breakdown and asked to be smited by an angel. “There’s something wrong.”

Reaching up to touch Castiel’s face, a dawning realization spread through Jolene like a warm rush, like when you wrap yourself in a blanket fresh from the dryer.

“You love him,” she said softly, her hand cupping Castiel’s cheek. “The whorehouse guy. You’re in love with him,”

“I love all humanity,” Castiel replied stubbornly. He grasped Jolene’s wrist, but didn’t remove it from his face.

“I thought his name was Dean,” Jolene teased.

Castiel looked so bewildered at Jolene’s statement, she threw her arms around him, letting out a throaty, whiskey laugh.

“It’s okay, Castiel,” she said into the front of his shirt. But as quickly as he was there, he was gone. Jolene was left standing in the middle of her room, arms wrapped around empty air. “It happens to the best of us,” she added in a whisper.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a scene that readers might find disgusting and unconscionable, but it was necessary for the plot. I'm sorry if it upsets or offends you in any way.

The beautiful one with the porn star lips ( _Dean_ ) stands in a garden, facing his brother, the handsome one with the incredible body ( _Sam … but not Sam_) who is wearing a smug grin and a hideous white suit.  Sam … But _Not_ Sam’s white shoed foot is on the neck of ( _oh, my fucking god_ ) Another Dean, who is very obviously dead of a broken neck. The two exchange a terse conversation that plays out like a TV show on mute before the smarmy-looking bald man ( _Zachariah_ ) from the second nightmare appears and zaps Dean back to a scroddy motel room. They fight for a minute, then Dean disappears, and then … Castiel. He’s there. Finally. Castiel and Dean speak silently for a minute. The feeling between them is warm and friendly and affectionate.

~~~~~~~~

Waking up in a sweat with blood trickling out of her nose, Jolene popped her eyes open. That was the first time her nightmare wasn’t _really_ a nightmare. Seeing Sam as such a terrifying figure giving off such an evil aura despite the ridiculous white suit was enough to trigger another nightmare, but Castiel was there. Castiel saved Dean from Zachariah. Jolene smiled a little at the way Dean and Castiel had smiled at each other.

“Talk about a profound bond,” Jolene whispered to herself.

But … this bald man. He was an angel. Angels were supposed to be the good guys. This Zachariah was anything but a good guy, in Jolene’s opinion. Why was he such a dick? What did he want with Dean?

Work was slow. Another night of horrendous weather had kept the tourists away, bringing out the locals who all swore they’d seen worse rain before. Jolene rolled her eyes as she passed out beer by the dozen. They all had no idea what was happening out there. Out there, right now, was the Apocalypse. Real Biblical shit was happening right under their noses. And the only thing that could stop it was a set of brothers and an angel.

“Hey,” said a familiar voice.

Jolene turned to see Vihaan standing at the bar. He grinned at her, almost wolfishly. Jolene grinned back, the skin on the back of her neck tingling a little. Was it his smile? It had to be.

“Hey!” she said. Yeah, it was definitely his smile that was making her tingle. Or was it seeing someone who looked at her like a woman and not like a … a … a whatever the hell Castiel looked at her like? “Beer?”

Vihaan made a face. “No way. I just deliver it. Whiskey?”

“Man after my own heart.” Jolene poured him a shot. “How is it out there?”

“Positively apocalyptic,” Vihaan replied, raising his gaze from his drink to her eyes.

Jolene visibly blanched at his words, but Vihaan didn’t give away any sign that he noticed her reaction.

“Joly?” one of the regulars called over to her.

“Be right back,” Jolene told Vihaan. Thank god her voice sounded normal as her insides still quaked a little at his choice of words. And the way he was looking at her.

She started to walk away, but Vihaan grabbed her.

“Leave the bottle,” he ordered sharply, squeezing her wrist hard.

“Okay.” Jolene winced. She opened her hand, dropping the bottle on the bar in front of him. Vihaan gave her wrist another hard clasp before letting go, but not before Jolene felt the bones in her wrist crack and rub against each other. “Thanks for letting go, sweetie.”

Jolene knew Vihaan was watching her as she walked away. She tried to smile at the customer she was serving, but she knew her trembling lips were turning her smile into a terrifying grimace.

“What’s up with your buddy over there?” one of the other bartenders asked. Jolene shrugged and the other girl went on, “He’s kinda hot in a creepy kinda way.”

“Yeah, and here I am trying to cut the hot but creepy guys out of my life,” Jolene replied. She turned to face Vihaan, who smiled at her, a little less scary and a lot sweeter.

_Okay,_ she thought. _That’s better._

The day wore on and Vihaan stayed on his barstool for the duration. When Jolene was finally leaving around 9pm when the night crowd was starting to shuffle in, Vihaan stood up.

“Can I take you out?” he asked.

Jolene looked surprised. “Are you still here?” she teased. “I thought you left hours ago.”

Vihaan gave her that too wide, too sunny, too wolfish smile again. “Nope. I wanted to see you out of work and eat.”

“I guess I could eat,” Jolene agreed. “There’s a diner up the road.”

“I was thinking your house,” Vihaan suggested.

Jolene shot Vihaan a flirty look. “There’s hardly any food at my house.”

“Did I say anything about food?” Vihaan said, pretending to look thoughtful. “I don’t remember mentioning food. I remembering mention ‘eating.’”

Jolene felt her skin flush. “Oh.”

“Yeah. _Oh_.” Vihaan’s voice held a slightly mocking tone.

Jolene let Vihaan in the front door of the tiny bungalow she and Todd shared. They were both a little soaked from the unrelenting rain and Jolene was laughing at the trite, trope-ness of it all.

“So, this is my place,” she said, waving her hands around the cluttered living room.

“Yeah, nice,” Vihaan said dismissively. He strode across the small room and grabbed Jolene around the waist, yanking her to her toes.

“Hey. Hang on a sec,” Jolene said, pressing her hands against Vihaan’s chest. “Let me get my sneakers off.”

“I’m not thinking about your feet,” Vihaan told her in a low voice.

Jolene’s stomach contracted. This wasn’t good. This was bad. Really bad.

“Okay, okay. Easy, sailor.” Jolene got out of Vihaan’s grasp and took a few steps away from him. “Let’s order a pizza and--”

“Again with the food.” Vihaan ran a hand through his dark curls. “I seriously didn’t mention anything about food.”

“Well, I’m hungry.” Jolene pulled her phone from her back pocket and started to dial.

Vihaan was across the room like a shot, reaching for her phone. He smiled at her, but the smile sent a lightning bolt of fear through Jolene.

“C’mon, Joly,” he said. “Put the phone down.”

“I don’t think so,” Jolene argued, backing away from Vihaan even faster, backwards into the kitchen. Vihaan followed, stalking her like a cat. “I think it’s time you left.”

“I don’t think so,” Vihaan disagreed pleasantly, his smile still in place, as he slapped her phone out of her hand. The phone went clattering across the floor and under an easy chair

“Shit!” Jolene turned to run into the kitchen and out the back door.

She made it to the kitchen before Vihaan tripped her from behind, slamming her chest into the counter. Gasping for air as she gripped the counter edge to keep from falling, Jolene struggled to catch her breath and make it to the door to the backyard.

“Where do you think you’re going, Jolene?” Vihaan asked from behind her.

“Get away from me!” Jolene choked. She grabbed the half wall at the end of the counter, knocking a pile of mail to the floor.

“Nope. Don’t think so.” Vihaan caught Jolene by a belt loop with three fingers.

“Oh, god! God! Let go of me!” Jolene cried out, kicking backward, trying desperately to connect with his legs.

“I don’t think so,” Vihaan said. He shoved Jolene face down against the counter by the back of the neck.

“Please … don’t do this …” Jolene begged, struggling against his iron grip. 

Vihaan hummed pleasantly as he unbuttoned Jolene’s jeans and jerked them down. Jolene started screaming as she fought to get away. Vihaan stopped shoving Jolene’s clothes out of the way long enough to jam a dishcloth between her teeth. Jolene’s screams continued as she felt the head of Vihaan’s dick work its way between her legs. 

“For fuck’s sake, _shut up_ ,” Vihaan snapped as he smashed Jolene’s face against the counter again and jammed his cock into her.

Jolene’s legs were tangled in the tight material of her jeans, making it impossible for her to kick backwards anymore. Pushing against the counter to push him off her by flying backwards wasn’t working since he had her pinned against the counter, arms trapped under her, and Vihaan had ridiculously brutish strength. Screaming and begging against her mouth gag as she tried to spit it out, Jolene cried hysterically.

_Stop it! Stop it! Stop! CASTIEL!! CASTIEL!! HELP ME!!_ Jolene’s brain screeched.

Minutes, hours, days, weeks later, Vihaan pulled out and wiped the dripping head off on her ass. Jolene rested her forehead on the counter and continued crying as Vihaan tucked himself away. Leaning against the counter so he could look at her, Vihaan smiled again, a cruel, mocking smile.

“I had fun. Did you have fun?” he asked. Jolene tried to turn her face away, but Vihaan grabbed her hair and turned her head toward him. He leaned closer to her face. “Did. You. Have. Fun?” he repeated, nodding her head for her. “You did? That’s great! We should do it again sometime.” Vihaan let Jolene’s hair go, bouncing her chin off the counter. “Well, I gotta get out of here before your roomie comes home. Or--hey!--before your angel shows up. You called for him, right?”

Jolene jerked her head up to stare wide-eyed at Vihaan. She yanked the towel out finally.

“What--what are you talking--” she croaked.

“Castiel? Dude in the trench coat?” Vihaan said, grinning. “Too bad he’s too busy with the Winchesters to help his favorite Seer.”

Jolene felt her face start to twist into another scream, but Vihaan popped her in the mouth with his fist casually, breaking a bottom tooth and splitting her lips. Jolene felt blood and drool dribble out of her mouth and down her chin.

“Nice meeting you, Jolene,” Vihaan said cheerfully. He turned to leave, then turned back around to smile at Jolene again. He blinked, his brown eyes going black momentarily. Jolene flung herself backwards, slamming her shoulder blades against the half-wall. “See you again soon.”

“No,” Jolene whimpered.

“Oh, no, babes.” Vihaan blinked, his brown eyes back again. “I’ll be back.”

Leaving Jolene in the kitchen leaning against the counter with her jeans and panties around her knees, Vihaan let himself out. Jolene stayed frozen in place until she heard his car drive away, then her legs gave out and she slumped to the floor to sob.

Jolene sat there for a few minutes before the feeling of Vihaan’s cum puddling under her on the linoleum forced her to her feet and into the shower. In the back of her head, Jolene knew she should call the police and report what happened and not take a shower, but there was no way-- _no way in fucking hell_ \--that the police would believe that she was raped by a man with black eyes.

Turning the water on as hot as she could stand it, Jolene let the shower beat down on her until she was ready to touch her body and wash the taint of Vihaan from her. Scrubbing hard at her skin with her loofa, Jolene watched as her pink skin went red under the rough texture of the loofa. Once she was washed, Jolene sat in the tub, the water hitting her back until it went cold. She got out, dried off, and got dressed.

“Joly?” Todd called as he walked into the house. “You home?”

Jolene stood up from where she was cleaning the kitchen floor.

“Kitchen,” she called back.

Todd walked into the kitchen, holding a pizza box from Three Brothers. He looked around curiously.

“Your guy leave already?” he asked as he set the box down on the kitchen table. “I got us an extra large pie in case you two needed to be fed.”

Jolene cringed at the mention of Vihaan. “Nah. That was a bust, so he left.”

“Got nothing then?” Todd teased.

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Jolene exclaimed. Todd looked surprised, so Jolene covered up her anguish by grinning. “It was _that_ bad.”

Todd clicked his tongue. “Sucks to be you.”

Jolene’s skin crawled as she glanced at the counter she’d just wiped clean of tears, blood, and drool.

“Yeah,” she agreed quietly, “it sure does suck to be me.”

An hour later, Jolene burrowed under her covers, tears coming, coming, and coming without an end.

“Castiel,” Jolene sobbed. “Castiel, where are you?


	6. Chapter 6

Three weeks later, Jolene was desperately trying to treat her encounter with Vihaan like it was a night terror to be gotten over. She hadn’t had an actual nightmare--or _vision_ , as she had started calling them seeing as she was a fucking _Seer_ and all--since that one where Sam wasn’t Sam and Castiel and Dean shared that moment between them. It also didn’t exactly suck that the three of them had started to figure pretty prominently in her daily daydreams.

“You goin’ to work today?” Todd asked, pausing in the doorway on his way out.

Jolene looked up from her phone. “I’ll be there tonight. You can check in the deliveries for me, right?”

Todd rolled his eyes. “Yeah. ‘Cause I love to do that.”

Todd left and Jolene shuddered. She could only avoid her daytime responsibilities at the bar for so long before her boss got pissy with her about it. Jolene turned her attention back to her phone, scouring the Internet for anything that seemed like Castiel might have a stake in it. She had no idea what she was actually looking for, but Jolene swore to herself she’d know it when she saw it.

“Jolene.”

Jolene jumped a foot at Castiel’s voice, sending her phone clattering to the floor. Looking up from the floor to meet Castiel’s eyes, Jolene inadvertently snarled at him like a rabid dog.

“You’re vexed with me,” Castiel observed unnecessarily.

“You have no idea,” Jolene told him through clenched teeth.

Castiel tilted his head and watched Jolene for a moment. He suddenly looked worried, an emotion Jolene never saw cross his face before.

“You’ve been hurt,” Castiel said.

“You have no idea,” Jolene repeated.

“What has happened to you, Jolene?”

“Now you care?” Jolene asked. “Now? I called for you, Castiel. I begged for you. I needed you and you never came. Where were you, Castiel?”

“I was with--” Castiel began.

“I know where you were!” Jolene shouted, clambering to her feet. She hugged herself closely. “You were with the Winchesters, saving the world! Have you saved the world yet, Castiel? Have you? Because it sure as shit doesn’t look like it.”

“Jolene, will you tell me what happened?” Castiel asked.

Jolene hung her head. “I brought a guy home and he … he attacked me.”

“Attacked?” Castiel said.

“Yeah.”

“Attacked?” Castiel asked again, his voice changing minutely.

Jolene looked up. “Yeah?”

“Who was it?” Castiel demanded.

Jolene flinched back from Castiel’s raised voice. “Vihaan Sharma. He’s a beer delivery guy.”

With that, Castiel was gone. Jolene gasped.

“Castiel!” she cried out, but he was long gone by the time she got the word out.

Jolene stood still for a moment before hugging herself tighter and burying her face into the crook of her arm. The rain had abated for the day, so Jolene headed outside to sit on the front steps. Being outside was as hard as being inside, but inside was closer to the kitchen, a room she had been avoiding for three weeks.

“Jolene.”

Jolene jumped again, this time to her feet. Castiel was standing behind her on the small front porch, staring far into the distance. Jolene looked around, making sure none of her neighbors had seen a man magically appear out of thin air.

“Castiel, where--” Jolene asked.

“Vihaan Sharma is not what he seems,” Castiel told her.

“No shit,” Jolene snorted.

“Vihaan Sharma is gone,” Castiel continued. “The man who you knew as Vihaan Sharma is no more.”

“What does that even mean?” Jolene asked. “Stop being fucking cryptic.”

Castiel silenced Jolene with a glare. “Vihaan Sharma is a demon.”

“And again: no shit,” Jolene said.

“No. An actual demon, Jolene.” Castiel sighed, rolling his eyes upward, a truly human gesture that didn’t escape Jolene’s notice.

“Wait.” Jolene put her face in her hands, then pushed her hands through her messy hair. “So, Vihaan is ... possessed?”

“Yes,” Castiel replied.

“Son of a bitch,” Jolene muttered, shaking her head.

“Dean says that all the time,” Castiel commented.

Jolene glared at Castiel. “Really? Dean? You’re gonna bring him up now?”

Castiel thought for a minute. “I hadn’t realized I had.”

Jolene shook her head again. “God forgive me for all the times I prayed for a monster in my bed.”

“Why would you pray for that?” Castiel sounded confused.

“Because--” Jolene began, flushing. “Uh … never mind.”

Jolene and Castiel stood silently for a few minutes before Jolene cleared her throat.

“So, how do we get rid of Vihaan’s demon?” she asked finally.

“The demon can be exorcised--” Castiel began.

“Let’s do that!” Jolene exclaimed, clapping her hands.

“--but Vihaan may not survive,” Castiel finished.

“Okay, let’s _not_ do that,” Jolene said without skipping a beat.

“I’m sure the demon is acting upon orders,” Castiel went on. “Your abilities could be very helpful for Lucifer’s plan.”

“Lucifer’s plan,” Jolene repeated.

“Yes,” Castiel agreed.

“I can’t believe you just said ‘Lucifer’s plan’ like it’s no big deal that Satan is strolling around on Earth,” Jolene said.

“It is a big deal, Jolene. It’s the _Apocalypse_ ,” Castiel said in a prissy, schoolmarmish voice.

Jolene looked up at Castiel before bursting into giggles, her first laughter in three weeks. Putting her hands over her mouth to cover the snorting, Jolene laughed until she saw the perplexed look on Castiel’s face.

“What?” she asked.

“Why are you laughing at me?” Castiel asked.

“Because, sweetie, you sound like a little old lady sometimes,” Jolene replied. She came up the steps and put her arms around Castiel’s waist. There was no way she could have hugged another guy in her frame of mind, but Castiel wasn’t a guy: He was her angel. He had been her angel since birth. He couldn’t hurt her, not even by accident.

Castiel allowed himself to be held, arms hanging by his side. Jolene laid her cheek against his chest, breathing in the familiar Castiel scent of spiced honey, rose petals, and ozone. But this time, there was an underlying hint of something _else_ on him. Jolene buried her nose in Castiel’s trench coat and inhaled deep enough to make herself dizzy. Leather. Musk. Coriander. Sandalwood. Gunpowder. Hot skin. Mint. Sweat. Fried food.

“What’s that smell?” she asked quietly.

“What smell?” Castiel asked.

“You smell different than before.” Jolene inhaled again. My god, Castiel smelled like a … a … a man. A _real_ man. “You smell like a dude.” Jolene closed her eyes as she breathed in, then added, as she exhaled shakily, “No, _two_ dudes.”

Castiel shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t like this line of questioning, Jolene.”

“Is this what the Winchesters smell like?” Jolene asked, but she already knew the answer.

“Yes,” Castiel answered unnecessarily.

“My god,” Jolene murmured to herself, feeling drunk, and began to rub her cheek against Castiel’s chest. “They smell sexy.”

“Jolene.” Castiel untangled himself from Jolene’s grasp and took a step back. “Your behavior is unseemly.”

“What?” Jolene asked, feeling a little dazed. She blinked up at Castiel, bleary-eyed and light-headed. The world around her blurred and shifted, making Castiel look like he was standing on his side. Jolene squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. It only made the swirling vortex of her vision worse. “Castiel? What did you say?”

With that, Jolene fainted.

~~~~~~~~

A Porsche 550 Spyder with the beautiful one with the porn star lips ( _Dean_ ) laying underneath it. A man killed by Abraham Lincoln. The handsome one with the incredible body ( _Sam Who Was Sam Again_ ) gets his ass kicked by Ghandi. Dean gets his ass kicked by Paris Hilton then gets tied to a tree. Sam chops Paris’ head off.

~~~~~~~~

“Paris Hilton!” The words tore from Jolene’s lips as she jerked herself back into consciousness.

Sitting up like she was shot from a canon, Jolene looked around dully. She was laying on the futon in the living room, covered by a blanket. Castiel stood in the corner of the room, the floor lamp lighting him from behind.

“They killed Paris Hilton!” Jolene moaned, feeling nauseated.

“I don’t know who that is,” Castiel told her.

“Whatever.” Jolene was too exhausted and too sick to fight. “I wouldn’t mind if they did.”

“What did you see, Jolene?” Castiel asked quietly.

Jolene covered her eyes with her arm. “I dunno.”

“You do,” Castiel insisted.

“Why not just flap your way over there and find out yourself?” Jolene sassed weakly.

“You’re infuriating,” Castiel told her.

“That’s been mentioned once or twice,” Jolene agreed. “What time is it?” She checked her phone and scrambled to her feet. “Holy shit. I’m gonna be late!”

Jolene’s legs gave out and she caught herself from falling on the coffee table.

“Where are you going?” Castiel asked.

“I have to go to work, Castiel,” Jolene replied. “I have to earn a living somehow.”

“Let me take you,” Castiel offered. “You are in no condition to drive.”

“You’re not serious,” Jolene said dubiously.

“I’m always serious,” Castiel said.

Jolene cracked a smile at his unintentional joke.

“Ain’t that the truth?” she said. “Okay. How do you plan on getting me there?”

“I’ll touch your forehead and you’ll be at the bar instantaneously,” Castiel told her.

“You mean, you’re not gonna … _fly_ me there?” Jolene asked, not even bothering to hide her disappointment.

Castiel looked perplexed. “Why would I _fly_ you there?”

“Because you’re an angel? Because you have wings?” Jolene replied. “Because you love me?”

Castiel rolled his eyes, making Jolene snicker. “Fine,” he said finally, holding his arm out to her.

Jolene hurried across the room and threw her arms around Castiel’s waist. Castiel started, then slowly put her arm around her.

“Hold on to me,” he advised her unnecessarily.

Jolene opened her mouth to retort, but was suddenly struck mute by a vacuum of air tightening around her, squeezing nearly all the breath from her body. The world around her went black and she tried to close her eyes to block out the darkness, but they seemed frozen open. Her body felt suction-cupped to Castiel’s next to her in a terrible, bone-crushing way. A silent protest of terror formed in her head until she managed to tilt her head ever so slightly up to look into Castiel’s face.

Castiel’s eyes were glowing so blue they looked almost white, matching the aura of light that surrounded them both. Jolene felt the stiff brush of his wings against the back of her legs. The screaming thrill of Castiel’s arm around her and the touch of those glossy black wings on her body sent a jolt of emotions through Jolene like a lightning bolt.

Just as suddenly as the flight began, it was over. Jolene felt the hard sidewalk under the soles of her Docs as Castiel deposited her outside the bar. Stumbling backwards from the impact, Jolene slammed hard against the side of the building. Castiel stood in front of her, completely unaffected by their journey.

“Holy shit,” Jolene panted. Her lungs exploded as oxygen flooded back into her. Black spots blossomed in front of her eyes like she’d passed out. Her whole body trembled. “That was fucking amazing.”

“Are you unharmed?” Castiel asked. “Most humans cannot withstand angel flight.”

“Dude, I’m _awesome_ ,” Jolene grinned, knowing she looked like a madwoman. " _That_ was awesome."

She threw her arms around Castiel’s neck and kissed him soundly. Maybe it was her imagination, but Jolene was sure Castiel’s lips moved ever so slightly against hers. Jolene pulled her mouth away and grinned again, normally this time, but her excitement hadn’t waned. Castiel gazed at her with those blue, blue eyes and Jolene felt a rush of heat course through her body.

“We’re _so_ doing that again,” she added in a hushed voice.

Castiel almost smiled at her enthusiasm. “Good-bye, Jolene.”

And he was gone just like that.


	7. Chapter 7

The night terrors came hard and fast after that glorious moment of flying (and kissing) Castiel:

~~~~~~~~

A little boy, half human and half demon, whose belief in childhood tall tales inadvertently caused injuries and deaths flees from the beautiful one with the porn star lips ( _Dean_ ) and the handsome one with the incredible body ( _Sam_ ) and her angel ( _Castiel_ ) after learning he was the Antichrist.

~~~~~~~~

A gorgeous he-witch with an Irish brogue plays the beautiful one with the porn star lips ( _Dean_ ) to save an old man in a wheelchair ( _Bobby_ ) and the handsome one with the incredible body ( _Sam_ ) in poker to save Dean, all of them betting the years of their lives away. Dean becomes an old man before Sam saves his ass by bluffing like a mother fucker.

~~~~~~~~

An adorable angel ( _Gabriel_ ) pretending to be a trickster god ( _Loki_ ) pops the beautiful one with the porn star lips ( _Dean_ ) and the handsome one with the incredible body ( _Sam_ ) into some bizarro TV Land where the boys have to survive bad television shows until they agreed to become vessels.

~~~~~~~~

Jolene’s pillow and sheets were soaked with sweat and blood when she woke from that vision. Sam and Dean. Vessels. Vessels for who? Who could possibly want the boys as vessels?

Huddled over her third cup of coffee, Jolene’s hands shook. She hated that she didn’t know everything. She hated that she have all the answers. She hated that she couldn’t remember Sam and Dean’s names in the midst of the nightmares … even though she had to admit that “the beautiful one with the porn star lips and the handsome one with the incredible body” were pretty accurate fucking descriptions of those guys.

“Castiel, if you can hear me,” Jolene whispered into her mug, “I need you. I need you something terrible.”

“Talking to your coffee?” Todd asked as he entered the room.

Jolene barely glanced up. “Something like that.”

“Have any more of those dreams?” Todd moved around the kitchen, pouring himself coffee and making a bowl of cereal.

Jolene shrugged. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You sure?” Todd asked. “I’m your best friend. You should tell me things. You should tell me everything.”

“I should--what are you talking about?” Jolene looked up to see Todd on the other side of the small kitchen table, grinning at her. His eyes were black as pitch.

Jolene screamed and scrambled backwards, knocking over the chair she was sitting on, spilling blazing hot coffee across both of her hands. Demon Todd made a move to the left, then the right, mirroring Jolene’s pathetic attempt to flee.

“Where you gonna go, Joly?” Demon Todd taunted. “You’re kinda trapped here.”

“Not another one of you!” Jolene cried out as she panicked. “Not again!”

“What do you mean ‘another’?” Demon Todd asked. “We’ve met before.”

“You!” Jolene realized. “You were in Vihaan!”

“Poor Vihaan,” Demon Todd mused. “You should have heard him yelling at me. You’d think I was _raping_ you or something …” He snapped his fingers. “Wait. I was.”

“Get away from me,” Jolene said with more force than she felt.

“See, I can’t,” Demon Todd told her. “I have the strictest orders to bring you with me. My boss is really interested in you.”

“Lucifer,” Jolene whispered.

Demon Todd grinned again. “That’s the one.”

“I’m not coming with you,” Jolene said. “You’re gonna have to kill me.”

“No one’s killing anyone.” Demon Todd made a move to come around the table again, feinting left.

Jolene went right, sure she was caught, but suddenly a scream ripped from Demon Todd’s throat as his face glowed a flaming red. Behind him, lifting him off the ground by the knife jammed deep into his back, Castiel’s face was an unreadable mask of determination and fury.

“Castiel,” Jolene whimpered, feeling her legs give out.

Castiel shook Todd’s dead body off his blade and turned to Jolene, still brandishing his weapon, now slick with Todd’s blood.

“Are you alright?” he asked Jolene in his gruff voice.

Jolene nodded, too shocked to speak.

“We need to go,” Castiel said.

“Go?” Jolene asked. “Go where?”

“Away from here.” Castiel came at her with two fingers outstretched.

“Hang on there, Tex!” Jolene exclaimed, throwing two hands up. “We can’t just take off and leave a _dead body_ in my house. This is Jersey. The cops’ll be here faster than flies on shit and then I’ll be in prison.” Jolene glared at Castiel. “You did that. You get rid of it.”

“I saved your life,” Castiel growled.

“Yeah, I know. Now please save it again by dumping the body somewhere.” Jolene pointed at Todd’s lifeless corpse. She refused to look at Todd. Looking at Todd would bring on hysteria and hysteria would not help the situation. “Castiel, _please_.”

Castiel glowered at Jolene as he approached the corpse. He laid his hand on Todd’s head and was gone in a flash, leaving Jolene alone in the kitchen next to a tiny pool of sticky blood. Jolene mopped up the blood, holding back tears and vomit until she was done and then both of them started as she leaned into the garbage can.

“Jolene.”

“You have impeccable timing, Castiel,” Jolene groaned.

Jolene felt Castiel behind her and stood up to face him. He reached out to touch her forehead, but Jolene slapped his hand away.

“No,” she snapped. “If you’re taking me anywhere for a while, I’m packing a bag.”

“We don’t have time for such foolishness,” Castiel told her.

“Too bad,” Jolene said as she headed to her bedroom. “I’m bringing clean underwear with me.”

In her room, Jolene threw clothes into a duffel bag, wondering how her life had gotten to this point. An angel. A Seer. The Apocalypse. Night terrors. Visions. Demons. Rape. Jolene steadied herself on her dresser.

“Jolene, we need to leave. Immediately.” Castiel appeared in her doorway, surprising her.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Jolene asked, jamming deodorant into her bag.

“They’re coming for you,” Castiel told her.

“Who is?” Jolene rushed past Castiel to the bathroom.

“Angels.”

_“What?”_ Jolene spun around, holding her toothbrush, just as Castiel laid two fingers on her forehead.

Jolene found herself in a motel room with two beds, both unmade. The table was strewn with newspapers and a laptop. One of the beds had an open duffel bag on it with a plaid shirt and pair of jeans spilling out. Another duffel was on top of the dresser. The room was painted white with super girly pink flowered bedspreads and identical pink flower pictures hanging above the beds.

“Where am I?” Jolene gasped.

“Ohio,” Castiel replied.

Jolene dropped her duffel on the floor in shock. “ _Ohio?_ What am I doing in Ohio?”

Before Castiel could answer, the motel door swung open, letting in a blast of sunlight and two tall men, dressed in jeans, plaid shirts, and heavy canvas jackets. Jolene dashed around Castiel to hide behind him before she realized who they were.

“The beautiful one with the porn star lips and the handsome one with the incredible body,” she gasped.

“What the hell?” the beautiful one with the porn star lips ( _Dean_ ) asked, pulling a gun from the inside of his jacket. His brother, the handsome one with the incredible body ( _Sam_ ), had already armed himself.

“For fuck’s sake, don’t kill me!” Jolene cried out, peering around Castiel’s ramrod straight body. “Castiel brought me!”

“What the hell?” Dean looked confused. It was a good look on him, even though Jolene was sure all looks looked good on him. He didn’t lower his gun. “Cas?”

“This is Jolene,” Castiel said, pulling Jolene from behind him to next to him. “She’s a Seer. She can help.”

“I can what?” Jolene asked at the same time Dean asked, “She can what?”

Sam was shaking his jacket off without dropping his gun. “Okay, let’s just calm down.”

“Calm down?” Dean said. He glanced at his brother, incredulous. “Calm down? Cas just shows up with some chick in tow and tells us she can help and I’m supposed to calm down?”

“Hey. Wait a sec,” Jolene said angrily. “I didn’t ask to come--”

“Dean--” Sam began as he laid his gun on the messy table.

“Sammy, look--” Dean interrupted.

“Castiel, why am I here?” Jolene demanded, turning to the stoic angel next to her.

“Jolene can see what is happening to you both,” Castiel said in a voice that silenced the room. “She has dreamed every event that has happened to you both since Lucifer rose.”

“Every event?” Dean asked skeptically. “Like what? Gimme a for instance.”

“Kansas City,” Jolene said promptly, glaring at Dean. “Rhonda Hurley’s pink--”

“All right!” Dean exclaimed sharply, holding his hands up.

Jolene turned to Sam. “ _New York Times_ Sunday crossword in pen. And that night with Lindsey from the bar.”

Sam looked uncomfortable as Dean raised his eyebrows curiously. “Lindsey? From the bar?”

“Pink what, Dean?” Sam shot back.

Dean clapped his mouth shut and threw his jacket across the unmade bed with the duffel bag. Sam turned his attention to Jolene, who was stunned by how gorgeous he was in person. Sam smiled kindly at her.

“Sit down?” he gestured to the table and chairs.

Sam seemed wholly aware of how big he was compared to mere mortals, so he sat first, giving Jolene a chance to react. Jolene joined him at the table, leaving Dean to stalk around the room, glaring alternately at Castiel and her. Sam smiled at Jolene again, who turned red at the attention.

“How do you know Cas?” he asked.

“He’s my guardian angel,” Jolene replied, finding herself grinning ruefully across the room at the silent angel.

“What?” Dean snapped, sounding frustrated.

Sam ignored his brother after shooting him a withering bitchface before turning back to Jolene.

“Tell me everything,” Sam said.

Without meaning to, Jolene spilled out her whole history with Castiel. Sam listened patiently, smiling at her jokes in all the right places. Jolene’s whole body warmed under the kind gaze of Sam Winchester, whose eyes were a heady blue-green hazel.

“When did the visions start?” Sam asked.

“They’re more like nightmares,” Jolene said, twisting her fingers into knots.

“When did they start?” Sam asked again, gently this time.

“May,” Jolene replied. “May 2009.”

She didn’t miss the look Sam and Dean exchanged. Dean’s attitude changed and he joined Sam and Jolene at the table.

“May what day, 2009?” he asked.

“May 14, 2009,” Jolene said.

“Sammy …” Dean said quietly.

“I know.” Sam’s voice was low, worried.

“That’s the day the 66th Seal broke,” Jolene said, nipping their secrecy in the ass. “Castiel already told me and I saw it happen.”

“What happens next?” Dean threw caution to the wind. He needed to know.

“I don’t know.” Jolene shook her head. “I only dream it. I can’t conjure it up any old time.”

“Feel up to taking a nap?” Dean asked next, giving her a heart-breakingly adorable grin.

Jolene rolled her eyes, grinning a little. This guy absolutely knew how to play a girl. He knew he was stunning and he obviously worked it to his advantage. Unfortunately for Dean, Jolene wasn’t going to fall victim to his considerable charm. Eleven years behind a bar getting hit on by every benny who came to town gave Jolene a distinct advantage over the situation.

“Not even a bit sleepy,” she replied. “I am hungry though.”

“Look, you have no idea--” Dean began.

“No! I _do_ have an idea!” Jolene burst out. “Everything you two have gone through--together and apart--I’ve seen it. I’ve gone through it too. I know everything. _Every_ thing. I probably know what you two haven’t even told each other yet.”

Sam and Dean didn’t meet each other’s eyes, but the awkwardness at the truth of Jolene statement hung heavy in the air. Jolene covered her eyes and held back tears.

“This isn’t how my life was supposed to be,” she told the boys from behind her hands.

“This isn’t how any of our lives were supposed to be, sweetheart,” Dean told her, not unkindly.

Jolene’s dark eyes locked with Dean’s green ones, making him sit back a little in his chair.

“That’s not real comforting, Dean,” she told him softly.


	8. Chapter 8

Over takeaway burgers and bad shows on an old TV, Jolene watched Sam and Dean Winchester. Castiel had left hours ago, though Jolene had begged him to stay. He left anyway, forcing Jolene into the bathroom to cry bitter tears. Sam was sympathetic. Dean was not so much sympathetic as overly solicitous.

Jolene was feeling a little overwhelmed by the intense masculinity in the small motel, so she fled to the bathroom again. Sitting on the floor with her back against the door, Jolene rested her forehead on her knees. Castiel was gone. Todd was dead. Vihaan was probably dead too. She was stuck in a motel room with two guys she’d been dreaming about for more than six months. Lucifer was looking for her and--if what Castiel had said before he zapped them out of New Jersey meant anything--angels were looking for her too.

“Jolene?” Sam asked, tapping softly on the door. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m peachy, hon,” Jolene lied.

“Listen, Dean went out.” Sam’s voice was low to the ground, like he was crouching down to talk to her through the door. “I know he can be a little … uh … inappropriate sometimes, but he’s a decent guy.”

“I know,” Jolene said, turning so she was leaning sideways against the door. “I just … haven’t been around new people since … since …” Jolene cleared her throat, trying not to think about Demon Vihaan. “Never mind.”

“Did something happen to you?” Sam asked. Jolene heard him sit down on the other side of the door.

“You could say that,” Jolene whispered.

“Was it a demon?” Sam asked.

“How did--” Jolene gasped.

“Let’s just say I have some personal experience with demons,” Sam replied.

Jolene knelt up and turned the doorknob. She opened the door to come face-to-face with Sam Winchester, who was sitting on the floor, finally at eye level with her.

“What kind of experience?” Jolene asked.

The look of self-revulsion and self-hatred that flashed across Sam’s face told Jolene everything she needed to know. Reaching out, Jolene tucked Sam’s hair behind his ear.

“Demons, huh?” she mused, smiling a little. “They kinda suck.”

Sam looked down at his lap, then up at her, smiling back. “Yeah. They do.”

Sitting on the floor together, Jolene and Sam were silent for a few minutes. She hadn’t been that close to one of the boys before but now, inches from each other, Jolene got an eyeful of how handsome Sam really was. Also, of how _unbelievable_ he smelled.

“Musk, sandalwood, and hot skin,” Jolene said out loud.

“What?” Sam asked, confused.

Jolene cringed, a fierce blush rushing over her face. Sam watched her, waiting for an answer.

“That’s what you smell like,” Jolene told him. “I could smell it on Castiel’s coat. I guess that means Dean smells like gunpowder, leather, and coriander.”

“This is the part of the conversation where I’m kinda creeped out?” Sam teased. “Because I kinda am.”

“I’d rather this be the part of the conversation where we laugh for a minute, then you kiss me,” Jolene answered before she could stop herself.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, not meeting Jolene’s eyes as she pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. There was no graceful way to come back from that statement. Jolene peeked up at Sam from under her lashes, trying to gauge how weird it was going to be now.

Surprisingly, Sam was watching her, a cute half-smile playing across his lips. Jolene dropped her hand from her head, glancing down at Sam’s mouth then back into his blue-green hazel eyes.

“Hey,” Sam said quietly, the tip of his pink tongue tracing his bottom lip.

“Hi,” Jolene whispered back, her blush creeping back up her neck to her face again.

Sam’s hand curled around Jolene’s warm cheek. A hybrid emotion of the terror at being touched by _a_ guy and the thrill of being touched by _this_ guy ripped through Jolene.

“Sam …” Jolene breathed. “The demon … it …”

“I know,” Sam replied softly. His thumb traced Jolene’s cheekbone. “I do.”

“I’ll never be normal again, will I?” Jolene asked.

“You will,” Sam promised. He inched closer to her, smiling reassuringly. “It may take a while, but it’ll happen.”

“Yeah?” Jolene tried to smile, but her lips started trembling. Jolene choked back the tears that threatened. There was _no way_ she was going to cry in front of this guy. “That’s comforting.”

“Family can help,” Sam told her, his fingers curling her hair behind her ears without letting go of her face. “And friends.”

“They’re all dead,” Jolene said harshly, dismissing her living father with that one statement.

Sam smiled, looking shy. “You have Cas. And Dean and me.”

Jolene felt as shy as Sam looked. “I do, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Absolutely.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“You’re welcome, Jolene.”

Jolene felt herself leaning into Sam’s hand, closer to him. Sam leaned in too. Eyes closed, lips parted, Jolene could sense Sam’s mouth hovering over hers.

“Jolene.”

“Are you _serious_ ?” Jolene burst out, eyes popping open.

Castiel was standing over Jolene and Sam, who were frozen in their aborted kiss stance. Both Jolene and Sam glared up at Castiel, who was utterly indifferent to their anger. Before either of them could say a word, Dean crashed in the motel room, a little drunk and a lot cheerful.

“What are we doing on the floor?” Dean asked, grinning widely. “Do you two fall off the bed?”

“Shut up, Dean.” Sam unfolded his long body and stood up, then offered a helping hand to Jolene.

“So, what’s the deal?” Dean asked, flopping down in a chair, bow legs akimbo, taking up a ton of space. “What’s the next step? Who’s got some answers for me?” Dean glanced between Jolene and Castiel. “Psychic Sally? Agent Angel?”

Jolene heard the joking sarcasm in his voice, but the brittle, distressed edge behind it was unmistakable. She was about to respond with a flippant remark of her own when Castiel spoke up.

“I have located the demon, Crowley,” he said.

“You have?” Sam asked.

“A demon?” Jolene gasped.

“You couldn’t open with that?” Dean demanded. “Where is he? Does he have the Colt?”

“The what?” Jolene asked but her question was overpowered by Sam saying, “We need to call Jo, Ellen, and Bobby.”

“Who?” Jolene asked, feeling a panic rise in her chest.

But Sam and Dean had seemingly forgotten Jolene was there and were talking and planning between themselves. Jolene lowered herself onto one of the beds slowly, feeling impotent and invisible. Sam left the room to make a call while Dean moved around, shoving belongings into his duffel bag, barking orders at Castiel, who hadn’t moved and was watching the sudden, frantic maneuverings of the Winchesters with some interest.

“Okay, Jo and Ellen are in,” Sam announced, coming back into the room, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “We’re going to flush Crowley out, get the Colt, and meet up at Bobby’s to strategize.”

“Yeah, that sounds simple enough,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “Any idea how we’re gonna accomplish that?”

“Jo’s volunteered to be our bait,” Sam replied.

“What?” Jolene demanded. “Bait? Who’s Jo?”

But the activity around Jolene continued, so she looked to Castiel for answers.

“Castiel?” she asked. “What happens now?”

“Sam and Dean are going to confront the demon Crowley, who has a weapon that can destroy Lucifer,” Castiel told her.

Jolene stared, wide-eyed, at him then looked at the Winchesters. Gone were the laid-back guys who ate burgers and made sarcastic comments at the TV. These two guys were focused and businesslike, gathering their belongings and discussing their gameplan.

“Guys?” Jolene said softly. They didn’t hear her, so she raised her voice. “Guys?”

Sam turned and seemed surprised at Jolene’s presence in the room. “Yeah?”

“What about me?” she asked, tapping her chest with her fingers.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. Sam nodded toward her. Dean shook his head no. Sam widened his eyes. Dean gave him a glare. Jolene watched their wordless exchange, fascinated at how they did it. Must be a sibling thing.

“Cas?” Dean asked, turning to the silent angel.

Castiel sighed, stalked across the room to Jolene, who cringed back away from Castiel’s outstretched hand. Castiel laid his hand on her chest and a shock of heat shot through Jolene.

“Ow! What the hell, Castiel?” Jolene exclaimed.

Dean rubbed his chest ruefully in sympathy. “Yeah, I remember that feeling.”

“What did you just do to me?” Jolene asked, her voice going high-pitched in fear.

“An Enochian sigil. It'll hide you from every angel in creation, including Lucifer.” Castiel looked past Jolene at the Winchesters. “Just like yours,” he told them.

Sam nodded. “Good.”

“Excuse me.” Castiel disappeared while Jolene made another face.

“It still stings,” she commented. “What’s he doing?”

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but Castiel reappeared almost immediately.

“I was warding this room against demons,” Castiel answered. “Nothing can find you now. Including myself.”

“But--but--how will I--” Jolene stammered.

“Don’t worry,” Dean reassured her. “He’ll just call you.” Jolene shot Dean a confused glare, which he ignored as he continued, “You need to stay in here until one of us comes back for you.”

“Wait. What?” Jolene asked. “In here? In this room?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “We’ll get you some supplies to get you through, but you can’t leave at all. You leave and the demons’ll be on you like flies on shit.”

“Lovely,” Jolene commented, wrinkling her nose.

“Jolene, you’ll be fine,” Sam reassured her, handing her paper and a pen. “Write down everything you need for two weeks.”

“What if it takes longer than two weeks?” Jolene asked as she started to write. “What if you guys--”

“Don’t finish that thought,” Dean interrupted. “Don’t even think it.”

Jolene swallowed, finished her list, and handed it back to Sam. Dean read over his shoulder.

“Wait,” Dean said suddenly, sounding unnerved. “Do you--do you really need--?”

“Yeah, I really need them,” Jolene snapped, knowing exactly what item on the list was giving Dean palpitations.

Dean poked Sam in the arm. “You’re getting those.”

“Why me?” Sam asked.

“You lived with a girl,” Dean replied. “I know she sent you on a--” Dean waved his hand at the shopping list, “One of those things runs before.”

Jolene snickered. “So, you can kills monsters, but the idea of picking up a bag of maxi pads is too much for you?”

“Can we just go and get this over with?” Dean asked, sounding exasperated.

Dean stalked out the door with Sam at his heels, but not before Sam threw Jolene a sympathetic smile. Jolene watched the Winchesters leave before turning to Castiel.

“Are they going to be alright?” she asked.

“They’re only going to the grocery store,” Castiel replied.

“No, I meant …” Jolene rubbed her forehead with her hand. “I meant, are they going to be alright when they find this Crowley?”

“I don’t know, Jolene,” Castiel replied. “Crowley is a powerful crossroads demon. He has unlimited demons at his disposal.”

“Oh, Castiel …” Jolene whimpered. “What’s going to happen?”

Castiel quieted Jolene with a long, level stare.

“Perhaps you could tell us,” he said in a low voice.

Jolene shivered, swallowing hard.


	9. Chapter 9

Her angel ( _Castiel_ ) finds The King of the Crossroads ( _Crowley_ ), and with the help of a petite blonde woman ( _Jo_ ), the beautiful one with the porn star lips ( _Dean_ ) and the handsome one with the incredible body ( _Sam_ ) enter his house. Crowley shoots his henchmen and gives them an ancient gun (The Colt), stating that he wants The Son of the Morning ( _Lucifer_ ) dead because Crowley believes that eventually Lucifer will kill all demons. Back at the old man in the wheelchair’s ( _Bobby_ ) home, Bobby takes a photo of himself, Sam, Dean, the strong woman ( _Ellen_ ), Jo and Castiel.

In Missouri, Castiel says that there’s reapers everywhere and is captured by Lucifer in a ring of holy fire. A brunette meatsuit ( _Meg_ ) sends hellhounds after the four humans and Jo gets hurt. Jo suggests they build a bomb to blow up the hellhounds, using her as bait. Ellen volunteers to stay so she can set off the bomb. Jo dies and Ellen blows up the building with the her and the hellhounds trapped inside.

Sam and Dean find out Lucifer killed all the women and children and possessed all the men with demons to summon Death. Dean uses the Colt on Lucifer, who doesn’t die and it turns out he’s one of the five things the Colt can't kill. Castiel frees himself from his holy fire trap and takes the brothers to Bobby's. The three men grieve over Jo and Ellen.

~~~~~~~~

Jolene woke up, sobbing, her nose gushing blood. Dead. They were dead. Those two brave woman had blown themselves up for the Winchesters and for what? For _nothing_. That gun hadn’t killed Lucifer and everything was done for _nothing_.

Staggering to the bathroom to clean up, Jolene washed her face and stripped off the t-shirt she was wearing to soak the blood out of it. Looking at herself in the mirror, Jolene couldn’t believe how sick and pale she looked. Being inside for seven days straight behind drawn shades and a locked door wasn’t doing anything for her complexion or her mental state.

The bedroom was a mess since Jolene had stopped making the bed she was sleeping in and the other bed was piled with clothes. The bathroom looked like a makeshift laundry room, panties and socks washed in the sink with hotel soap draped over the towels racks to dry. Plastic grocery store bags were stuffed with microwave breakfast and dinner boxes and piled in and around the over-flowing garbage can.

How long had they been at Bobby’s house? Were they ever coming back to get her? Where was she going to go after she left the sanctity of the motel room?

~~~~~~~~

The beautiful one with the porn star lips ( _Dean_ ) and the handsome one with the incredible body ( _Sam_ ) get themselves checked into a psychiatric hospital by simply telling the truth about their life. They meet up with a rat-faced ex-hunter ( _Martin_ ) to track down a wraith who had been feasting on the patients. It’s the nurse, not the doctor, who’s the monster in the end and the boys get away but not before Dean saves Sam from being the wraith’s next meal.

~~~~~~~~

The burner phone Dean had given Jolene hadn’t rung since the Winchesters and Castiel had left thirteen days ago. She didn’t have her own phone, so she could imagine how many missed calls and texts were on there from her boss, looking for his missing managers. Jolene swallowed hard, trying to push the thought of Todd out of her mind.

A sharp rap on the door made Jolene jump. Who the hell was knocking on her motel door in the middle of the night? Standing in the doorway of the bathroom, Jolene froze, trembling with fear.

“Jolene, it’s Sam. Let me in,” said a low voice on the other side.

Jolene rushed to the door and almost yanked it open before stopping herself.

“How do I know it’s you?” she hissed.

“Do you have that water bottle I left?” Sam asked. “You didn’t drink it?”

“Course not,” Jolene snapped. “You told me not to.”

“Open the door and throw it in my face,” Sam told her.

“Fuck, Sammy.” Jolene could hear Dean’s voice faintly in the background.

“Shut up,” Sam snapped. “Jolene, did you hear me?”

“Yeah. Uh … lemme put a shirt on.” Jolene threw a t-shirt on over her naked self, grabbed the water bottle with “DO NOT DRINK” written on the label in black Sharpie, and cracked open the door without unlatching the chain.

Sam’s handsome face peeked in through the chained door. He smiled a little. Jolene eyed him warily.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” Jolene replied, trying to stay out of his reach while still holding the knob, so she could slam the door on him if necessary.

“You got the water?” Sam saw the bottle in her hand. “Okay. Now. Splash me with it.”

“Sam--” Jolene and Dean said at the same time in the same exasperated voice.

“Just do it!” Sam exclaimed, shocking Jolene with the force in his voice so much, she flung water from the open bottle into his face before he shut his mouth. Behind him, Dean burst out laughing as Sam spit some of the water at the floor by Jolene’s feet. Then he turned to his brother. “Keep laughing, asshole. You’re next.”

Sam stepped out of the way, leaving Dean looking bewildered in Jolene’s line of fire. If possible, Dean Winchester looked even hotter soaked with holy water than he did dry.

Letting them in, Jolene was suddenly very, very aware of how gross her motel room must look. Looking around wildly, Jolene scurried over to the dresser to knock the maxi pads laying there into the open drawer before slamming the drawer shut.

The massive, broad-shouldered, and tall Winchester boys moved into the room. Sam sat at the messy table while Dean chose one of the unmade beds. He grinned at Jolene, who pretended not to notice him while not missing the implication of his grin. Considering what they had gone through in Missouri and Oklahoma, Jolene was bemused at Dean’s swift ability to shift into playboy mode.

“This place is so gross. Sorry,” she said.

Dean appraised the room, then shrugged. “We’ve seen worse.”

“We’ve _done_ worse,” Sam agreed.

Jolene stayed next to the dresser, and lifted herself onto the top. Dean grinned at her, but Jolene’s eyes went to Sam. He seemed lost and very distracted.

“Sam?” she asked. “You okay?”

Sam lifted his incredible eyes to meet hers. The overwhelming sadness in them behind the outward cheeriness almost strangled the air out of Jolene’s lungs. She wondered idly if Dean could even see the pain in his brother. It was tangible.

“I’m great,” Sam replied evenly, his smile not even remotely reaching his eyes.

“I--I saw what happened,” Jolene said awkwardly.

No need to expand on what she’d “seen.” Dean cleared his throat while Sam stared at a spot over Jolene’s head.

“Yeah. Well,” Dean said roughly.

The three sat in silence. Jolene tugged at the hem of her t-shirt, pulling it over her legs at she pulled her legs up to her chest to rest her chin on her knees.

“Have you seen Castiel?” she asked suddenly.

“You haven’t?” Sam replied, immediately alert. He and Dean exchanged a concerned glance.

Jolene nodded slowly, watching them. “I didn’t think so,” she said softly. “How long has it been for you?”

“Since Carthage,” Dean replied. “You?”

Jolene cleared her throat, hating her answer, “Since he was here with you two.”

“Shit,” Sam muttered.

“Where could he be?” Jolene asked, suddenly very, very worried about her angel.

Dean shrugged, but Jolene could tell he was suddenly very, very nervous.

“We never know where Cas is,” he said. “He comes and goes as he wants.”

“Yeah,” Jolene agreed. “I guess I know that.”

“When was the last time you had a good meal?” Sam asked Jolene suddenly.

“Those burgers that last night you guys were here,” Jolene answered immediately. “I haven’t had more than one meal a day for four days. I’m almost out of food.”

“Well, you’re not starvin’ on my watch,” Dean said, putting a jolly voice on. “Get ready and we’ll take you somewhere.”

“No!” Jolene burst out. “No! I can’t! The demons--”

“Here.” Dean dug into his inside jacket pocket and tossed a small bag at Jolene, who barely caught it.

“What is this?” she asked, turning the small leather bag over in her fingers.

“It’s a hex bag,” Sam told her. “Just like the sigil hides you from the angels, the hex bag will hide you from the demons.”

Jolene stopped inspecting her hex bag to glare up at the Winchesters through narrowed eyes. “So … so, you’re telling me that if you’d just given me one of these fucking things and I could’ve left this room at any time? _At any time_!”

“Yeah … uh … sorry,” Sam said. “We needed to keep you in one place to keep you safe.”

“You’re fucking kidding me!” Jolene yelled, climbing down off the dresser to wave the hex bag at the Winchesters. “You kept me prisoner?”

“We needed you safe, Jolene,” Sam told her. “Until we know what they all want you for, you have to be hidden.”

“Fuck you. I’m not your fucking Rapunzel,” Jolene snapped.

“That would be hot,” Dean said, which silenced Jolene for a minute, then made her and Sam grin.

Jolene pointed at both of the boys. “You owe me an amazing fucking meal.”

“Best burgers on the planet,” Dean promised.

“Go fuck your hamburgers, Dean,” Jolene said as she headed into the bathroom to shower. “I want steak.”

Jolene slammed the door, leaving Sam and Dean looking at each other. Sam broke into a grin, his first one in a while.

“So, you’re springin’ for dinner then?” he said to his brother.

“Shut up, Sammy,” Dean grumbled.

Over dinner, that Jolene was inhaling like it was her first good meal in days--which, in reality, it was--Dean’s phone rang. Jolene choked down a mouthful of potato to gasp out,

“Is it Castiel?”

Dean shook his head. “I dunno this number.” Dean answered the phone, gruffly asking, “Yeah?” His face went soft and a little shocked as he listened. “Donna? Really? Old babysitter Donna?”

Jolene and Sam watched as Dean glanced their way, got up from the table, and went outside.

“Does he do that a lot?” Jolene asked.

“Not usually,” Sam said. He looked away from watching Dean outside the window, turning his attention back to Jolene. “How have you been … otherwise?”

“Oh, you mean the demon thing?” Jolene replied. “Well, I’ve been so worried about you guys that I haven’t had time to think about demons. I guess that’s a plus.”

Sam thought about it for a minute before replying, “You’re welcome?”

Dean came back to the table in a rush, jamming his phone back into his pocket. “Sam, we gotta go.”

“What’s wrong?” Sam and Jolene asked at the same time.

“Remember Donna, our old babysitter?” Dean asked, throwing money down on the table with zero regard for how much the bill actually was.

“Vaguely,” Sam answered.

“Well, her family’s in trouble and she needs help,” Dean told him. “Let’s go.”

“Where do they live?” Sam asked.

“Housatonic, Massachusetts,” Dean replied.

“Where the hell is that?” Jolene asked.

Dean glanced her way. “Massachusetts.”

Jolene shook her head, rolling her eyes. “I asked for that one.”

Dean pulled out of the restaurant’s parking lot and headed toward the highway. “We’ll drop you in Jersey on the way to Massachusetts.”

“You’re just going to _leave_ me there?” Jolene asked, horrified. “Alone? With no protection?”

Sam turned around in his seat to face her. “We’ll ward your house against angels and that hex bag will keep the demons away.”

“But … but what about you two?” Jolene asked.

“We’ll be in Massachusetts,” Dean said with a completely serious face. The look in his eyes gave away the fact he was totally amusing himself.

Jolene opened her mouth to comment, but Sam held up two fingers to silence her for a minute.

“Dean, we have to make sure Jolene is safe,” Sam said to his brother. “So, we’ll stay with her for a day or two and then head up to Donna’s.”

“Sam--” Dean began.

A withering look from Sam shut Dean up, who grumped, cranked up his AC/DC tape, and pointed Baby toward New Jersey.


End file.
